The Dark Side of the Island. Jack Higgins

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СКАЧАТЬ The boat leaves in five minutes.’

      Lomax turned very slowly and looked at him contemptuously. ‘When I want to hear from you I’ll let you know. Once you were a man, but now...’

      As he turned away, Dimitri reached to the cobbles for another piece of wood and Lomax kicked it out of his way.

      Dimitri looked up slowly. His eyes were very pale, the pupils like pin-points. He still kept on humming to himself, but a muscle twitched spasmodically at one side of his jaw.

      ‘With children and dogs you’re quite a man,’ Lomax said clearly so that all could hear. ‘How about trying someone a little nearer your own size?’

      One moment, the bouzouki player was lolling back against the windlass, the next he had moved forward, the knife cutting upwards like molten silver in the sunlight.

      Lomax could have broken the arm with supreme ease. Instead, he pivoted and chopped down with the edge of his hand. Dimitri screamed, dropping the knife, and Lomax kicked it over the edge of the pier into the water.

      He felt completely cool and without fear. It was as if that other, younger man had returned to take over. The one who had been trained to use such methods until they were a reflex action.

      There was an ugly murmur from Dimitri’s friends, but he held up a hand and shook his head. When he spoke, his voice was curiously remote and far away. ‘I’ll break his neck as easily as I did the dog’s.’

      All work had ceased on the ship and everyone waited. As Lomax circled warily, he saw people hurrying along the waterfront and then an old jeep appeared from a side street and braked to a halt and Katina and Yanni got out.

      A segull cried harshly and swooped down and Dimitri jumped in close, his right fist swinging in a tremendous punch.

      To Lomax the blow seemed to travel in slow motion. He swerved slightly, allowing the bouzouki player to plunge past him, and slashed him across the kidneys with the edge of his hand.

      Dimitri screamed and fell to the cobbles. For a little while he stayed there on his hands and knees and when he got to his feet, he was slobbering like an animal.

      He lurched forward again and Lomax grabbed for his wrist with both hands and twisted it round and up so that he held him in a Japanese shoulder lock. Dimitri screamed again and still keeping that terrible hold in position, Lomax ran him head-first into a stack of iron-bound crates.

      There was a gasp from the crowd and Lomax stood back and waited. Dimitri grabbed for a chain and heaved himself to his feet. When he turned, his face was a mask of blood. His hand slipped from the chain as he took one tottering step forward and collapsed.

      There was a moment of stunned silence and then a spontaneous roar of anger from Dimitri’s friends. As Lomax turned, they came forward with a rush.

      He swung a fist into the first face and then a foot caught him on the shin and he cried out and started to sag. As he bent over, a knee lifted into his face and the cobbles rose to meet him.

      He rolled desperately, face tucked into his shoulder, hands protecting his genitals, and then a shot echoed flatly across the water and then another.

      It was as if all the clocks in the world had stopped at the same moment. Dimitri’s friends moved back reluctantly and Lomax scrambled to his feet.

      Father John Mikali stood a few feet away and Kytros was at his side, automatic in one hand, the other hooked into his belt. He looked very calm and completely in control.

      Lomax stood there, his body aching, the taste of blood in his mouth, and Kytros said quietly, ‘The boat is waiting for you, Captain Lomax.’

      Lomax turned and looked at Alexias. On the big man’s face was something that might almost have been respect, but there was more also. A slight frown of bewilderment as if for the first time he was unsure of himself and of the situation.

      Lomax took a deep breath to clear his head and turned. He brushed past the sergeant and walked back along the pier and the people moved silently to each side.

      From somewhere a thousand miles away he could hear Papademos shouting to his men and the rattle of the anchor chain and there was a roaring in his ears.

      Katina was there, her arms around him and Yanni, his face white with excitement. She led him to the jeep and the boy opened the door and Lomax slumped into the passenger seat.

      She climbed behind the wheel and leaned across to wipe blood from his face. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked calmly.

      He could feel her hand trembling and he held it for a moment and smiled. ‘A good thing Kytros arrived when he did. I’m getting a little old to be playing that kind of game.’

      She drove away quickly, scattering the crowd, and turned the jeep expertly into the narrow side street.

      ‘Where are we going?’ he said.

      ‘To the hotel for your things. Afterwards I’ll take you out to the villa. Oliver would want me to.’

      She turned into the square and braked to a halt in front of the hotel. As she started to get out, Lomax laid a hand on her arm. ‘Not you, only me.’ He climbed down and walked round to the other side. ‘I could do with some time to think this thing out.’

      She looked down at him gravely. ‘Just as you like.’

      ‘Are you going to keep Yanni with you?’

      She nodded. ‘I think it would be better.’

      He smiled and ran his fingers through the boy’s tousled hair. ‘We’ll find you another dog, Yanni.’

      He moved between the tables and just as he reached the door she called to him. When he turned he saw that she was unfastening a chain that hung around her neck.

      She threw it to him, liquid gold in the sun, and he caught it, closing his hand over it at once, knowing what it was.

      ‘I give you back your courage,’ she said, and drove away very quickly.

      He went into the cool darkness, aware of Anna’s frightened face peering at him from the kitchen doorway and the stairs seemed to stretch into eternity.

      When he reached his room, he closed the door very carefully and stood with his back against it staring at his clenched right hand with the two ends of gold chain hanging down. After a while, he opened it gently and looked at the small bronze coin that bore the face of Achilles.

      A long time ago, he thought. A hell of a long time ago. He lit a cigarette and went and lay on his back on the bed and stared blindly into the past.

      Book Two

      The Nightcomer

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